


Don't Forget the Milk

by LokiOfSassgaard



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-05
Updated: 2010-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:38:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6309160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiOfSassgaard/pseuds/LokiOfSassgaard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson contemplates his living arrangements.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Forget the Milk

“Don't forget the milk.”

John tried to ignore it as he left the flat. Sherlock could go round to the shop for a change. The whole point of having a flatmate was to share the load. Division of labour and all that. Why was it that John was always the one having to go off to the shops while Sherlock sat for hours without even moving?

But, fine. He'd go to the shop. He'd make sure they had tea and bread, and make sure the bills all went out on time, and Sherlock could just sit and talk to his skull. Fine. One of them had to be responsible, after all, and if it was only going to be one of them, John knew that it might as well be him.

Another trip to the shop, another noisy row with a chip and PIN machine, and he tried to forget why he had been so upset in the first place. He succeeded, in that the chip and PIN machine had managed to completely distract him from Sherlock. Luckily, he had just enough cash on him to cover the cost, but it was cash that h ad been intended for cab fare. Still, the shopping had been done, and even paid for, which had been a pleasant change from the way things had been going recently.

With this knowledge on his mind, the walk back to the flat had been enough to calm him down considerably. He wasn't even, he realised, upset with Sherlock any more. Sure, he was always the one to do the shopping, but doing the shopping got him out of the flat and away from the odd smell that had been coming from the kitchen lately. Doing the shopping was just fine, he'd decided. Almost sort of fun and relaxing. Well, maybe.

He scaled the stairs feeling rather pleased with himself, nudged the door open to the flat, and completely ignored Sherlock, who still hadn't moved since John had woken up that morning. John tried to dodge around the severed hand on the counter, and started putting the shopping away.

“Did you get milk?” Sherlock asked from the sitting room.

John shifted his jaw as he put the tea down on the counter. Without a word, he snatched his keys back up and stomped back out to the street. Next time, Sherlock could go to the bloody shop.


End file.
